


Flight from Doriath

by Elwing_of_Doriath



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwing_of_Doriath/pseuds/Elwing_of_Doriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people of Doriath flee to the mouths of the Sirion after the death of Dior and the ruin of Doriath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight from Doriath

So they had come. It seemed that nothing but destruction was to come of what many considered the greatest work of art ever created. Celeborn could never see in the silmaril what others had seen in them. Even Elu had been enamoured by those stones, though at first he thought of them only as a way to get rid of an unwanted suitor of his daughter. When the dwarves had slain Thingol the elves of Doriath had reacted with wrath. Now that the sons of Feanor had slain Dior they felt only sorrow. And they had fled still carrying the silmaril. They couldn’t give it up now, not after so many people had died for it. But in his heart Celeborn wished that he could cast it in the depth of the sea, so that at least this stone would never again become a curse in all its beauty. But still he remained loyal to Elu and the silmaril went with them in their hurried flight away from the forest, once home and safety and beauty unequaled in Arda marred, and now gone.

They should have foreseen, should have known that the fate of all elven kingdoms wouldn’t spare Doriath in the end. But everything had been so different. Not Morgoth, the great enemy, was responsible for the fate of the kingdom of the Doriathrim, which had been the first elven kingdom in whole middle earth, which managed to resist the shadow longer even than Nargothrond. While Melkor was searching for Gondolin, the fate of Thingol's people should be different. Never should this have happened – maybe the worst result of Morgoth's deeds – that elves started to fight against each other. But Feanor's curse worked cruelly.  Since the kinslaying at the swan haven of Alqualonde the peace between the peoples of the elves was destroyed. And in Doriath the people of the Teleri suffered most again and again it were the silmaril, which produced such cruel deeds.  
Celeborn was looking south. Few had escaped.  The numerous people of King Thingol consisting of Teleri, who had stayed in Beleriand, but also of Nandor, who had reached the west of middle earth later, and a few Noldor, who had returned – seduced by the ire of Feanor and his sons – and had then come to Doriath, these people, who had developed a culture that was different, but equal to the culture of the Eldar of Aman, these people, who had withstood Morgoth longer than any other, were now forced to flee. Since Thingol’s death in the unfortunate feud with the Naugrim Melian could no longer withhold the foes from the borders of Doriath. She had gone away. Nobody knew where. But I suppose she has gone back to the Garden of Lorien across the sundering seas, which she gave up once for Thingol’s sake. So Doriath could not resist the invading Noldor, who had after Beren's and Luthien's death again demanded the silmaril. One last time he looked back. He had seen Dior falling, the heir, and his two sons, only children, had been brought away. No one knew where. And in front of him in the saddle sat the princess of Doriath, of a kingdom, that existed no more, a child, but bearing a knowing look in her unfathomable deep eyes. He was her only living kinsman now. He would have to care for her. Silently he listened to the lament for Elu, many low voices sadly singing. Now it was the lament for a lost home too.  
They were hurrying south. The dark forests of Doriath were burning. He noticed that Elwing was looking back too. Seeing the look in her eyes his heart burnt with ire. Such pain no child should have to endure. So young was she, the daughter of Dior Eluchil and Celeborn’s niece Nimloth, but had seen such terrible things. The shadow was over all of them.  
Gondolin was still standing, but how long could this last kingdom of the Eldar of Middle Earth stand against the increasing might of the enemy? If Morgoth found the city, she could never withstand him. And what city could remain hidden, if all force and all will of a Vala were used to discover it? He had never seen her, but everyone talked of her with awe, being a reflection of the beauty of Valinor on Middle Earth. He had never seen Valinor either, but it too had seemed a safe haven that proved unequal to keeping out the evil that was Morgoth. If Gondolin fell, all hope seemed to be lost for the Eldar of Middle Earth. And fall it would.  
They hurried on, always heading south, away from the proximity of the cruel fortress Angband and the cursed lands beyond and away from the second kinslaying. They were heading for the sea, for the mouths of that river that many tales of the Eldar of Beleriand tell of, the Sirion. There might be temporary safety there, but the realms of the Eldar in Middle Earth were gone for good. Celeborn wondered whether this could indeed be the plan of the Valar. Had they indeed abandoned Middle Earth completely, leaving it to its fate, while they sat behind their high mountains in the west watching it burn? Celeborn hoped not, but he had little evidence to contradict his fears.  
They were alive, but Doriath was gone. And without it there wasn’t much hope left.


End file.
